


Soaring

by addie_cakes



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: But not explicit, Introspection, M/M, Pining, implied yuzusho, mihoko is best mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14368437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addie_cakes/pseuds/addie_cakes
Summary: Mihoko has to watch Shoma do his best to impress Yuzuru, and she has to keep her heart from breaking in the process.





	Soaring

Mihoko watched, lips pursed, as her young student skated along with the other elites. As far as she could tell, Shoma was indeed old enough to gyrate his hips with the rest of them, but he seemed to have a genuine wish to sentence his coach to a premature death.

Yuzuru glided past Shoma, bending backwards into his hydroblade, eventually standing back up with a sly grin. He was proud of himself, and of course he was. Months of injuries and setbacks had only motivated the young man, and he was once again the recipient of a gold medal, and Shoma had settled for silver but had not seemed bothered in the slightest.

In fact, as he watched Yuzuru with that dumbstruck smile on his face, Mihoko began to worry that Shoma was never going to push himself past Yuzuru, simply because he was quite content to chase.

The practice for the exhibition was going well, despite the fact that it seemed as if no one was actually trying to learn the choreography. Yuzuru danced somewhat, throwing his arms up in mock frustration when he forgot the steps. And Shoma moved half-robotically, hitting the choreography but giving no further effort. He was at his best when he was allowed to skate on his own, when he could fall back into a cantilever or impress the crowds with his jumps—but when he had to practice with the group, Mihoko could tell that Shoma was uncomfortable.

Until he began dancing with Yuzuru. Suddenly, the younger man moved with a different sort of confidence, one that implied that he was trying to prove something to Yuzuru. Shoma mimicked the other man’s hip check, sticking his tongue out when everyone began to cheer.

Nathan Chen only looked confused—a perfectionist by all accounts, he had been fine with capturing third (by less than a point) after one nasty fall from a quad attempt. He would agonize over the details later, but for now, he was grateful. He was young, though, and was incredible and was so different from both Yuzuru and Shoma that he was more endearing every competition. Everything was an analysis to Nathan, one in which he calculated what he needed to do and for how long and to what extent to achieve the results he wanted. He was admirable, in that his intelligence was a key factor in how well he performed. Perhaps he was not Yuzuru, who moved like water along the ice, but he didn’t have to be--Nathan won by different means.

When Yuzuru tried to pull Nathan into the makeshift dance-off, the younger bravely attempted for a brief moment before he allowed himself to be dragged away by his teammates, only half-embarrassed.

Helplessly watching, Mihoko turned her glare on Brian, who shrugged in response. The other coach could sense her protectiveness, her surprise at Shoma’s actions. When had he gotten so...the word could not be “confident,” for he had been confident before, but perhaps “relaxedly loose” better summed up Mihoko’s view of her student.

Shoma rolled his hips, gaze locked on Yuzuru, and the older man’s eyes widened before he broke out into a grin, followed by a chattering sort of laughter. He nodded thoughtfully, as if he was sizing Shoma up, and then skated toward Shoma, unbothered. He looked behind him, back at Nathan, and Nathan quickly looked away—he obviously did not want to be again drawn into this face-off.

When Yuzuru got close enough, Shoma finally broke into laughter, doubling over. But he caught himself quickly, skating around Yuzuru while running a hand through his hair, leaning back slightly. He suddenly had the air of a veteran flirt, and even Yuzuru seemed impressed.

Everyone was watching now—Alina was giggling into Evgenia’s shoulder, and Wakaba and Satoko watched with unsurprised expressions. Nathan still seemed a bit confused by the turn of events, perhaps because he was the only American, besides the Shibutanis, who had broken away from their own routine practices to watch.

“Try a lift!” Alex called, and Maia smacked his arm.

Mihoko tilted her head, perplexed. She did not quite know what the young man had said, but Yuzuru teasingly put his hands on Shoma’s waist as if pretending he was going to pick the smaller man up. Shoma pulled away quickly, laughing still, but his amusement did nothing to dissuade Mihoko’s discomfort.

Oh. He had grown so much. And Shoma was supposed to grow; he was an adult, and he was more mature now. He cried less and expected more of himself. He didn’t necessarily need to be led around anymore, even though the media seemed to figure that he was an airhead by nature, that he could only function with plenteous hours of sleep and insane amounts of meat. Those notions were only somewhat true; he was successful because he pushed himself, not because he happened to fall into talent.

Shoma was allowed to move outside his normal bounds, and his coach was glad that he was growing closer to his fellow competitors.

But he wasn’t a child, and it was a bit hard for her to watch. Suddenly, perhaps overnight, a veil had lifted off Mihoko, revealing that her little student was a man now. Maybe some of the surprise, the reluctance to recognize Shoma as a full-grown adult came from his still-small size, from the way that the other skaters consistently treated him like a little brother figure. They wanted to protect Shoma just as fiercely as Mihoko did, and now--as she watched Shoma skate around Yuzuru like a hungry shark--Mihoko worried that she would never be able to step in on her student’s behalf again.

And maybe Shoma moved a bit too close to Yuzuru, and perhaps Yuzuru didn’t pull away immediately, and their smiles dropped for a fraction of a second before Shoma smirked and kicked off from the ice, making his way back to the wall.

“Who taught you that?” Yuzuru joked, leaning forward and resting against his knees. “I never taught you that.”

“You did,” Shoma countered, chancing a look at his coach. He must have sensed her conflicting emotions, because he sent her back a questioning look.

She shook her head, bitter smile in place. He could never know how much his flourishing was hurting her, almost as if she were his own mother. She knew now that she couldn’t protect Shoma from everything—not the media, not other competitors, not even from himself. When he was very small, he marched after her, always looking to his coach for instruction, allowing adults and older children alike to want to coddle him, because he truly was that adorable. Then, as he grew, he began to walk in front of her but would still look back when he was lost; he was confident in the sense that he knew what he was supposed to do, but only because he had first asked Mihoko.

But now—now he simply marched, glided, flew, he  _ soar  _ ahead of Mihoko, and she carried his things, still grateful to even be a part of his journey. Most coaches would never be able to keep their students for so long, but Shoma, ever resistant to change, had chosen her.

He used to let her protect him, to coddle him, because he knew that he had an adorable charm to him, and he accepted it. She would correct Shoma’s errors, and he would listen, but for the most part, she congratulated him. And then he got old enough to hug with just one arm, and perhaps Mihoko felt more permitted (or even more compelled) to encourage him to push himself, because she knew that Shoma was capable of greatness and could handle correction.

Now they were both adults, and their relationship was far different. It was different than the one that Brian and Yuzuru had, certainly. Theirs was professional from the start, and then the adoration and familial ties had built themselves around the two. But for Mihoko—she supposed it was impossible to  _ not _ care about a child, so her love for him only had to grow in line with the professionalism they had to have. She would treat Shoma like her student, but their hugs were two-armed again, and he valued her opinion, both as a professional and as a friend.

Yuzuru had picked Brian because he had a very specific goal; Shoma just wanted to skate, and he learned to value Mihoko’s expertise as a result.

So, things were different now, and Mihoko would have to adjust. She accepted that fact, and accepted it more fully when she saw how Shoma’s face lit up when everyone kept patting him on the back after his latest stunt. She did not know what the others were saying, and while Yuzuru could translate somewhat to Shoma, she could sense that he had no clue, either.

That Yuzuru Hanyu—he was a legend, and deservingly so, and he was just as flirtatious and familiar with everyone, and Mihoko began to chide herself for being so defensive of her student. She was not Shoma’s mother; he could look out for himself.

But he skated over to her, anyway, eyebrows knit together in concern. “Did something happen?” He asked, tone soft.

She shook her head again. “No, I just don’t remember all that being part of your choreography.” She smiled at his sheepish grin.

“We shouldn’t add it now.”

She agreed. If she were fortunate enough, Shoma would want another lofty sort of program, and perhaps not a tango. Not again, and not yet. Of course, she could not stop him for trying to expand his surroundings, and if he wanted to spend his free skate seducing the judges, she would let him. 

The young man smiled, a bit nervously, and she waved him off to skate with the others. She would be fine. 

“Are we going to have another wedding at Nationals?” Yuzuru asked once Shoma rejoined his spot, attached to the older man’s hip. “We can link arms and everything?”

Shoma rolled his eyes and pushed Yuzuru’s shoulder slightly. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll win this time.”

“You’ll have to work very hard, and I’ll have to stop hurting myself.”

“Mm.”

Mihoko sighed, going to sit down. She sensed that Brian wanted to sit beside her, could tell that, despite the language barrier between them, he wanted to say something encouraging about her student, maybe tell her that she was doing a good job with him. And she knew that would be true—Shoma was amazing, and he had asked Mihoko to follow him for the whole ride. Maybe some of his greatness she could claim. 

Some of the skaters were beginning to practice their jumps, Evgenia leading them. Once Shoma was in the air, for a triple, Mihoko noticed the way that Yuzuru’s face scrunched up in anticipation, as if he worried about Shoma hurting himself. He didn’t, naturally, and the young man bent into his knees to absorb the shock. He straightened himself, skidding to a halt beside Yuzuru. 

“I may catch up sooner than you think.”

Mihoko could hear Shoma, but she couldn’t hear Yuzuru’s response; instead, she only watched as Hanyu, the king of the ice, smiled lightly and muttered something only loud enough for his teammate to hear, before linking his arm through Shoma’s. Ducking his head in embarrassment, Shoma nodded.

Mihoko sighed and crossed her leg over her knee, leaning back. Sometimes, Shoma exhausted her, and she loved him all the more for it. Most of the time, he amazed her, and he stunned her with his quietness in real life and his blaring presence on the ice. She hated the thought of him getting any older, not needing her as much, and for the briefest of moments, she wondered if, given the opportunity, she would swap the Shoma now for the little child she had first met. 

But, no. She wouldn’t. 

She admired Shoma and anticipated his future more than she feared it. And if she wasn’t his center, his anchor, anymore, than she would accept whatever place he gave her. She would never leave, she decided, not unless he asked her to. And only if she was certain that she could confidently leave him with someone who cherished him just as much as she did. 

When he and Yuzuru began to make their way toward the other side of the rink to run through their choreography again, Mihoko vaguely wondered if this was the beginning of his distancing himself. He would let Yuzuru lead him, because he trusted Yuzuru. And she would have to loosen her grip to give Shoma space so that he could reach even farther. 

But he looked behind his shoulder, right at her, and she grinned, urging him to follow the group. He nodded, dutifully, and turned around again, slowing down so that Yuzuru could lead the way. 

Pleased, Mihoko finally spared Brian a smile. He returned the gesture before going back to watching his own student. So, Shoma still wanted her approval, still looked to her for guidance, if only for a little longer. And Yuzuru still needed Brian. Maybe a student never quite outgrew a coach, and maybe they did, and maybe Shoma would be different from everyone else, just as he always was. 

She supposed she would have to wait to find out.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my Tumblr, figure-skating-prompts.tumblr.com. Come check me out and leave a prompt!


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